


A Private Little War

by deinvati



Series: Dean/Sansa [3]
Category: Inception (2010), Supernatural
Genre: Childhood Friends, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinvati/pseuds/deinvati
Summary: You're friends with this guy? How did you two even meet?
Relationships: Eames & Dean Winchester
Series: Dean/Sansa [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057247
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	A Private Little War

**Author's Note:**

> One and Seven meet as children. How did it go?
> 
> 1\. Eames (Inception)  
> 7\. Dean (Supernatural)

"Get down!"

Dean jumped and landed on the new kid, pushing him to the ground and landing on top of him. The swoop of wings passed inches over their heads.

Sammy was probably fine; his grade was still at lunch instead of recess. But Dean had to get to him, had to warn him.

"Oi! Gerroff!" came the muffled voice from beneath him.

"Oh, sorry, dude," he tried to apologize. God, if the kid got mad and told someone, Dad would kill him. He'd be okay if he got in trouble at school for fighting, but not if Dad found out there'd been an honest to god _wyvern,_ and he hadn't done anything except push the new kid into the dirt. Well, new _er_ kid, anyway. Dean and Sam had been at this new school for two weeks now, and this guy just showed up today. Bad first day, almost getting taken out by a wyvern. Good thing Dean was there.

"What's the big idea, taking the mickey out of the new bloke?" the skinny boy demanded, brushing off his knees.

Dean blinked and half-grinned despite himself. He slapped some of the dust off the other kid's shirt. "What's a mickey?"

"Oh, that's what this is about? I talk funny, so you're gonna push me down, is it? Well, let me tell you something: you lot talk _ridiculous_."

"Look, I already said sorry, alright? What do you want from me?" Dean brushed himself off, keeping an eye on the sky, but the new boy hadn't made a move to see what it was that had been hunting them.

He just stood there and watched Dean for a moment, chewing his lip.

"You alright?" Dean finally asked because Dad wouldn't be real happy about him giving another kid a concussion either.

"What was that thing?"

Dean stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about." He turned around and started walking back to the squat brick schoolhouse, even though recess wasn't over yet.

"Wait!" came the accent behind him.

Dean kept walking.

"Wait!" the boy panted again, chasing after him. "I saw something, I know I did. Is that why you knocked me down? Is it coming back?"

He wouldn't last ten minutes huffing and puffing like that. The kid was in terrible shape.

Dean ignored him and kept walking around the side of the building, aiming for the cafeteria windows. If he could spot Sammy, he could warn him, maybe have him complain to the nurse and get her to call Dad. The nurse didn't believe Dean anymore, and she didn't like dealing with John Winchester any more than she absolutely had to. Dean could sort of feel sorry for her, if she would ever actually help him out when he needed it.

"What's your name?" the boy asked as Dean hoisted himself up on the window ledge on his elbows.

Damn. No Sam.

"Dean," he said with a sigh as he dropped back down to the ground.

"Pleasure," the boy said, extending his hand. "Percival Eames. Friends call me Percy."

Dean snorted. "No, they don't. As of right now. Name like that and you're worried about people making fun of your accent? You're Eames, unless you want to get your ass kicked." He shook his hand anyway. He seemed nice enough. "So, Eames, where are you from?"

"London."

"London, huh? Why'd you move?"

"My mum died. Apparently my dad lives here."

He said it so flatly, Dean might almost believe he didn't care at all. Except he knew that particular pain, and he also knew it didn't fade. Not overnight, maybe not ever. So, the kid had the makings of a pretty decent liar, at any rate.

Dean watched him. "My mom died too. Sorry about yours." Eames' face didn't flinch, but he nodded. Dean turned and walked away.

"So, what are you gonna do with that thing when you find it?"

"Kill it," Dean said succinctly, not bothering with the pretense any more. The kid was persistent, he'd give him that. If he wanted nightmare fodder, Dean wasn't going to deny him.

"Bloody hell," came the awed whisper. "Can you teach me?"

Dean stopped walking. He turned on the boy. "Teach you what, exactly?"

Eames stopped just short of walking into him. "Uh… were you gonna shoot it? Can you teach me that? I've never held a gun before."

He was small, skinny, eager to please. But he wasn't scared. "That's a pretty big lesson, kid. What's in it for me?"

Eames frowned. "Don't call me 'kid.' We're in the same year. And I can teach you how to win at cards and how to lift a wallet."

Dean's eyebrows hit his hairline. He frowned thoughtfully. "Good things to know. How do you know I don't already know that stuff though?"

"Well, you might have, but your face already gave you away," Eames said, a little smug. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Bring me a wallet tomorrow and I'll get some ammo after school. Looks like we might be sticking around here for a little while anyway."

Eames grinned a mouth full of crooked teeth at him. Yeah, the kid was alright.


End file.
